


Walking Alone

by rudymemingers



Category: The Host - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 12:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudymemingers/pseuds/rudymemingers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared was alone for a long time before he met Mel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking Alone

**Author's Note:**

> songfic based on boulevard of broken dreams by greenday

_i walk a lonely road / the only one that I have ever known / don't know where it goes / but it's home to me and I walk alone_

 

A year and a half ago the souls took over my planet. Two years ago I ran away in the dead of night because no one understood me. Thoughts that were repressed in my teenage years came out in my college years and made me believe that everyone hated me. I was probably the average rebel, swearing and yelling and fighting and kicking and breaking. Yeah, that sounds real familiar. It saved me though. Might've even been human intuition that made me go. If that's what made me leave, it cut it way too close for my liking. Six months wasn't long enough to let me escape.

I knew what was happening before it did. News reports started going out about four months after my disappearance. That's what struck me. Before leaving, I lived with my over active dad and one of my older brothers. We were real close. We were happy. But we were the kind of people that left when we needed to and didn't consult each other.

Mom died when I was fifteen. To tell you the truth, it was probably better that way. She didn't have to watch the old bastard start to slow down. The way his breathing became heavy and his chest pained whenever he talked too much. I told him to lay off the cigarettes.

My bitter laugh is heard by no one but the stars and I curse them for sending the parasites to our planet. Sure, no one got hurt anymore, no one died in fist-fights or committed crime; but that's wrong. Humans weren't perfect and if I'm the only one left I know for a fact that we still aren't. But that didn't mean we didn't deserve to live. It didn't give them the right to take over our bodies and minds.

Maybe those debate lessons in class paid off.

School for me was a millennium ago. College was closer to now. Frat parties irritated me and I wasn't one to get drunk much. I spent most of the time with my brothers. They lived in the middle of nowhere with no one. Until I left; that's where my life was heading too. I wouldn't have minded that. The brothers were my best friends and the biggest idiots I ever knew but I loved them anyways. I miss the bloody bastards.

I spit off to my left as habit. It doesn't clear my thoughts but makes me feel better. I don't really know why; just the fact that the act is familiar. I smile.

I like familiar. Familiar is home. I know where I want to be. But can't remember where that place was. Maybe if I wander about for a while; I'll find what I'm looking for. But until then it's long dusty roads with towns far and few between. I duck behind bushes when a car comes. Sometimes the cars slow down and I end up feeling guilty for killing them. They are always parasites; they're always trying to help me or ask if I wanted a lift. But they're always terrified when they see my eyes. They always scream and run back to their car, planning to tell the authorities about a human that hasn't succumbed to their powers.

I can't have that, now can I?

 

_i walk this empty street / on the boulevard of broken dreams / where the city sleeps / and I'm the only one and I walk alone_

 

The parasites sleep now. They definitely don't stay up partying; celebrating taking over another world. I sometimes watch them from dark street corners; baseball cap pulled heavily over my eyes and the scar I gave myself, a beacon of peace on my now tanned skin.

I don't want them to have peace. But for now I don't have any guns; knives yes, but that won't help when they've pinned me to the ground with my hands behind my head. I'm not going to hand myself in by punching one of them in the gut for what they've done. No matter how many times the instinct has presented itself.

I'm lonely. I'll admit that much. I mean the boys would smack me over the back of the head for saying that and call me a sissy. But I don't care. They're gone now.

I even got to go to their funeral.

The souls are a strange species, I'll give them that much. The men I called my brothers were clever and went into hiding only a few months after I fell of the radar. They just weren't bright enough to be hidden. They were the few that ran head-first into fights with them and thought they would win. They freaking bombed the worms and thought that their alien technology wouldn't detect our measly attempts at rebellion. Somehow they managed to get killed in the process.

The aliens gave them a funeral. A funeral. My brothers' funerals were organised by aliens. I don't know what's harder to get my head around; the fact that they're gone or the fact they were buried by aliens. I laugh slightly at the thought. They were probably turning in their graves at the simple idea. Serves them right; the bloody bastards.

Strong bodies dug deep holes into the ground. The worms that took those bodies must've been proud; they were heavily muscled. They wouldn't have gone down without a fight. Tell you the truth, neither would I.

I didn't say anything when I was there. I didn't even show my face. They were buried at night in the middle of the desert. The souls must've been psychic. My big brothers would've chosen to be buried there. I was crouched behind bushes too far away to know what they were saying; whether they were being treated right. They probably weren't; the 'service' was over within the space of fifteen minutes. I counted.

My brothers and I, we weren't overly religious. We didn't go to church every Sunday like the perfect families down our street. We kinda took the piss out of them. But standing next to my brothers' graves, I got down on my knees and prayed that they were going to a better place than here. I thanked whoever was listening that their minds weren't taken over like so many people I knew were. I pleaded that I wasn't to be taken over in the future. That I would live a long life with my mind intact.

I begged that I wasn't to be so damn lonely all my life.

I'm not going to sleep tonight. It's dangerous. I'll sleep tomorrow morning when the authorities aren't searching. They think that they're clever, only looking for rogue humans at night. They want to trap us like freaking rats in cages. They seem to forget one thing.

Rat's aren't dumb.

 

_my shadow's the only one that walks beside me / my shallow heart's the only thing that's beating / sometimes I wish someone out there will find me / 'til then I walk alone_

 

Okay, I take back what I said before. When I said I was lonely, I didn't mean I wanted the company of an animal. Halfway through the night, a thin dog appeared out of nowhere and decided to follow me. So, whoever listens to prayers out there; take back the damn dog!

A few years ago, I wouldn't have noticed the shaggy looking mutt trotting about seven metres behind me. I probably would've passed it off as my own imagination. But two years of always watching who was following you, always making sure I disappeared made me sensitive to noises that weren't my heart-beat or footsteps.

I decided long ago that my heart beat too loud and now this dog's pants even louder. I refuse to give it food; I barely have enough for myself. I go without anything for days at a time. The more naïve me of three years ago may have stopped to pet the dog or even feed it. But that was a lifetime ago.

This morning I try sleep in a ditch just off the dusty road I follow. A wide sheet of plastic is pulled over me and I'm pretty sure that people driving by wouldn't give me a second glance. But I can't trust their judgement and so I move further out into nowhere before trying to sleep.

The dog freaking follows me.

Trying to get to sleep, I idly wonder if there's anyone like me out there. Any humans that got away before the parasites overtook the Earth. It was gradual at first, people starting to act weird. That was why I left home. If anything, Hailey McLaren saved my life. Sleep is impossible knowing what I must do in the morning. I watch the dangerous fire. Dangerous not because it could burn me, but because it could draw them to me. As I decided whether or not I want to live another night, I throw another stone at the dog.

It's thin and scrawny and would probably make good company if it wasn't another mouth to feed. I could take him with me, but I don't know where I'm going. No. I can't take it. I shake my head; I don't even know if it's a girl or a boy.

"You a bitch or a bastard?" The dog growls at the first option, so I assume it's a girl. I refuse to check because I don't want to know anything about it. It would be nice to have company but...

No.

It would only get hurt and leave me.

I'm reminded about another bitch from another lifetime ago. She left me too. She made me hate the world.

Hailey McLaren was the freaking crush of my high school years. She was... amazing. Beautiful she was. Even smart. The old man always told us not to fall for someone smarter than you, but I fell hard. But she was too clever.

The old man told me she wasn't good for me and I freaking yelled at him. I cursed him to the fiery pits of hell for not understanding what I thought was love.

 

_i'm walking down the line / that divides me somewhere in my mind / on the border line / of the edge and where I walk alone_

 

I wake up when the sun goes down, the gradual disappearance of life unnerved me and I stand. Darkness means two things; vulnerability because you can't see your surroundings and safety because they can't see you either. The slight panting to my left makes me jump and I curse under my breath, "Shit."

That mutt is still there. I throw another stone at her, this time making sure she runs off a few metres before she returns; pants as loud as ever. Even animals can't take this heat. I'm reminded of my thoughts before I fell asleep.

I growl at myself in frustration. I shouldn't ever have disrespected my father. You should never speak ill of the dead. I never ran away because of Hailey McLaren. She was a spiteful, ignorant and not to mention arrogant teenage girl. She was probably one of the first to be taken. The big C got my father. People forgot to mention that fact to me simply because I was the youngest. At the age of twenty one, I left home without telling anyone. I told myself then that I was too old to be living with my family but the truth was that I couldn't see him deteriorate.

I couldn't watch my hero die. I regret leaving now; the parasites probably decided he was unfit for their world and killed him first. I knew for a fact that he was too far gone for them to save his body with their alien medicines.

A year ago, I managed to receive a cut on my arm, from my elbow going all the way down to my wrist. The blood was everywhere and I honestly thought that my time had come, that I was going to die. As I sat there, against a high wall (one that I'd fallen down just an hour beforehand), contemplating what was to happen to me; I wondered what happened to my father. Unlike my brothers, I'd never found out what happened to him.

If he was taken over, where I'm going is probably unsafe. He'd have told them about our place and my efforts now would probably be for nothing. But there was always that chance that, even though he was gone; that our place was still there. No one knew about it so I was pretty sure that it would be safe. That I could get there without being detected; that I'd survive.

So I waited until nightfall before I dragged my sore and heavy body out of that ditch, wrapped tourniquets around my arm and decided I knew where I was going. I didn't have a car and still don't; but I'd made good distance over the year.

I was close to where I wanted to be. It's so near right now that I could taste it. Only round the corner; my arms reach out towards the direction I'm going to travel and I smile. The dog looks at me strangely and, showing the first sign of affections towards the mutt; I reach out and pet it. Thinking about what I was about to do, I smile wider; thus making the dog nervous. I laugh.

I'm going home.

 

_read between the lines / what's fucked up when everything's alright / check my vital signs / to know I'm still alive and I walk alone_

 

My father almost definitely didn't survive and I don't know whether or not to be relieved. It means where I'm going will be safe. It also means I'll never learn where he is now.

I chuckle at the idea of walking into my old home and asking them. "Hey, don't mean to bother; but you know that human that used to live here? Where's he buried?" I shake my head; the quiet chuckles hurt my throat. Despite my speaking to an animal a day before; I honestly can't remember speaking to another being.

I see the parasites walking about my child hood home as if they own the place and a vein almost pops in my head. I think it probably did. But somehow the blood ended up on my palms where my nails dug in to it. That was painful. But it was either that or hitting the damn dog that's still following me. I check my palms for any problematic injuries but it looks fine.

I want to punch something. Preferably someone in that house over there. A short, thin lady with copper skin stands in the doorway; her arms wrapped around the waist of a man with skin the same as mine. I can't remember what I'd have done a few years ago to the sight; possibly retched. But the sight doesn't look right because of the light reflecting in their eyes. The scene would've looked normal if those silver rings didn't ruin it.

I want them dead.

That thought comes on so unexpected that I physically back away from myself. Vicious thoughts aren't good for someone that's alone as much as I. As I walk away from them, I wonder what would've happened here if the aliens weren't here. It would still be sold to someone else. Neither I nor my brothers could look after that house. I don't want to accept it; but maybe it was for the best.

I'm starting to think I'm bipolar.

I forget about the couple and start walking towards where I started to go; making sure to stay in the shade. After a few minutes, I realise that the dog is gone. When I turn around; I can see the mutt with the couple in the doorway She's jumping around whilst they rub her belly. I feel cheated on so I do my best to keep walking. I have to remember that I never wanted the dog.

 

_I walk alone / I walk alone / I walk alone / I walk a..._

 

I fall through the roof. I'm real clever, I know. When I started walking about this yard a mile from home; I'd begun to think that it never existed. Falling through the ground hurts and surprises me. What I see now terrifies me.

Memories upon memories all piled up against each other. Photos line the wall and old knick knacks from around my child hood home litter the floors. I can't help it; I laugh. Quietly at first before it grows louder and I make myself stop before someone hears. I'm far from anyone that poses a threat but I don't want to draw attention.

This place was built with my own hands. This place belonged to my family and we were most happy here. Again; I can't stop the wide smile upon my face. My brothers were here; that much is clear. I can't be sure if my old man came here after the invasion; but his memories are here.

It makes me laugh again, this time with glee that I might have a home now. Walking around the underground palace; I trace the walls with feather-light fingers. I don't want to destroy anything. I wouldn't want to hurt this place; I love it. I haven't been here for years yet I can see myself being here for a long time to come.

As long as I stay hidden. It won't be as difficult now; I make plans in my head to start taking from peoples homes. The idea doesn't appeal to me but everyone needs to live, right? People must've done the same as me somewhere. Maybe there are people out there that are the same as me.

I smile at nothing in particular. Who knows? I may find someone to share this with.

 

_my shadow's the only one that walks beside me / my shallow heart's the only thing that's beating / sometimes I wish someone out there will find me / 'til then I walk alone_


End file.
